Odorat
by Eomara
Summary: In the eight months between, how two men survived with the aid of one very observant canine. Winston POV.


Dreamer put his hand out, stopping me from approaching the Roarer, who was just across the clearing. I quietly sniffed, letting my irritation show - he already had me behind his legs, it was clear enough I wasn't supposed to go further without his permission.

I waited for Dreamer to take stock of what was in front of him, so I stayed put, but that didn't stop me from looking around. The ground was damp, leaf-covered and had a thousand smells. Many of them were familiar, I remembered from walks with Roarer and Doe. I didn't miss Doe, even though she had taken care of me while Dreamer was away. She was so hesitant, so cautious to even walk through the forest. Skittish and uncomfortable, she reminded of one of my pack mates, who was fearful of newcomers and near inconsolable when home changed.

Of all the smells, I knew Dreamer's best. When he was away, I was deeply aware of the lack of scents that were uniquely him. The very first time I met Dreamer, I smelled fish, even though he had given me meat. It was a soft smell, only strengthened when he returned to home damp, but at peace. But he had cleaned me, made me warm, fed me, and when he held me close there was a burning warmth, and he also smelled like smoking wood. It came from what he was drinking, but it wasn't a bad smell. It wasn't like the sleeping smell. When Dreamer slept, the warmth was too much, and this swampy smell permeated home. When he woke, he'd look at me and say, "just a dream, Winston". He had so many dreams, sometimes he smelled like that even when he was awake.

Dreamer's hand still extended, keeping me behind him. I let out a low and quiet whine - Roarer was too quiet. Surely we should go and see if he was hurt.

"I know, Winston. I know." And after another moment's hesitation, I weaved around him and his guard and trotted up the steps. I ignored his alarmed shout and went straight for Roarer, who was sitting outside.

The wet forest had masked his smell. His smell burned my nose - it was terrible, there were injuries and there was that smoking wood smell again. But this almost made me sick, like the time I ate the fish when it was cold and wet. This was too much, this wasn't warmth, this wasn't like Dreamer. It hit me all at once and it was so much that I didn't move in time when Roarer's hand lashed out and pushed me back, making me stumble.

"Jack! What the hell?" Dreamer yelled, having not been as fast as me, and running up now, kneeling to check me. I licked his hand and stood up, it was ok, I was ok.

"Leave!" Roarer barked, facing Dreamer unsteadily, but not standing up.

"Jack. Enough." Dreamer corralled me behind his legs again, and this time I was going to stay. I looked around from my protection, and curiously sniffed at Roarer again. At this safe distance, it wasn't overwhelming. There was something else under the smoky staleness.

"I said leave!" He was getting louder. He was always loud, he echoed off the trees and rocks during walks. Even in home he was louder than Dreamer, and he reminded me of the bear I had seen before Dreamer had found me. Roaring, snarling and something to stay away from. Now, more than before, I saw that bear. I pressed into Dreamer's legs, this didn't feel right.

"Jack, this has to stop. I'm sorry about Bella, I am. She-" Dreamer turns and ducks, covering me as something flies above us and shatters. Before I can squirm out of his hold, he picks me up and turns back to Roarer.

From this vantage point, I can see Roarer is shaking in his seat. Dreamer's hold on me is steady, but strong, a reminder of my place. His hand has woven into my fur and his thumb his rubbing my side. Roarer starts to stand, and Dreamer backs away quickly, something crunching as he walks and goes down the steps. Back on the damp ground, he still holds me close. I look up to see Roarer unsteadily glaring at Dreamer.

"You did that to her! You and...and...him - you both killed her!" He went to follow us, but Dreamer backed up. It was clear we weren't wanted on Roarer's territory. This wasn't home, this wasn't safe.

"Jack, please. Enough." I felt his voice rumble through our joined chests and looked up at him a moment, not smelling the swamp.

Instead of answering, Roarer returned to his seat, looking away from us. Dreamer carried me back to the car and we drove away. Only after a few trees had passed, he stopped and carried me to the open space in the back. He sat on the edge, and checked me over.

"Just making sure there's no glass in your fur." He mumbled, then going for my paws. Gentle as always, he looked at my paws carefully. When he stopped, I expected us to keep going, but he sat there, looking down the road that lead to Roarer. I moved, sitting closer to him.

"He's angry. Angry and afraid." Were these the other things I smelled? I looked towards Dreamer, which made him keep talking. "He is full of anger at what happened with Hannibal. And simultaneously full of fear because he doesn't know if he can face this reality without Bella."

These two things, anger and fear. Was that what was under the nauseating smell? It had been vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place it. I thought Dreamer might keep talking, but he rubbed my head and my ear, then got up to close the car. He let me climb next to him, but he didn't speak as the trees went by.

The heater hummed quietly on the stones, but the warmth didn't keep me from waking when I heard a whimper. Dream.

I made my way in the dark to the increasingly swampy smell, but this time it was different. I could smell something similar to Roarer. Another whimper, louder this time, and I made my way to the bed, leaping and immediately settling next to Dreamer. I had learned that stepping on him made him nervous, and licking his face made him irritated, so I pawed at him until the mumbling stopped and he opened his eyes. The smell immediately began to disappear, but it wasn't so metal-like when coming from Dreamer.

"A dream, Winston. Just a dream." His hand settled on my neck. I watched him wince, and peered at him, unblinking. "I'm ok, buddy. Just...remembering." His other hand drifted to what had been an injury on his stomach. He had smelled of blood for so long, I wondered if it ever would go away. The light in the room changed, but we didn't shift. Dreamer's eyes closed, but he stayed calm.

We were back in Roarer's territory. He yelled at Dreamer more, and I steered clear of both of them, preferring to smell the trees near the car. This happened what seemed like many more times, and every time Roarer became quieter, and less aggressive. I still didn't trust him, though. I remembered stumbling and the following shock.

Then when it was colder, the ground's smells harder to find, Roarer emerged and greeted Dreamer. I stood well behind Dreamer, still untrusting. The smoky smell was nearly gone, as were the scents of 'anger' and 'fear', but maybe it was masked again. The bag of fish that had been in the car with us now hung near me and I thought that could be hiding smells, too.

"I'm sorry, Will." Roarer's voice was low, quiet, and unshaking. "Seems like I did some permanent damage to your dog."

Without responding, Dreamer turned to me and called. I was torn between the safety of the distance I had achieved and obeying. It was a very brief struggle, and I trotted over, but kept very close to Dreamer, and behind him.

"Winston is simply being cautious. You might be able to recall the last time he got close, you shoved him and threw a bottle of whiskey at him in under five minutes." I saw the recognition flicker in Roarer's face and his shoulders slumped.

"And at you. I'm sorry, to both of you. Please, come in." He gestured in towards the door, and I followed Dreamer's lead, shadowing him. We both pause and glance at Roarer right before entering, and we're given permission.

I sniff and sneeze at the onslaught of dust and mustiness, to which Roarer chuckles.

"Can't eat off it, but it's better than it was." I sniff about, trailing a bit further behind the two men. Eventually following them, I see Roarer standing across from Dreamer, as he begins to cut into the fish. I settle down between the two, and my attention drifts as the cooking begins.

"I still can't think of it clearly," Dreamer speaks over the hissing oil in the pan. "Can you?"

"No," the sun-warmth quality was back in Roarer's voice. "It was all such a shock, Will. I knew he was strong, but I didn't think he'd win a fight with me."

"You had him pegged as a doctor, soft like the chairs in his office. Your mistake." Dreamer was looking down at the fish, which was starting to smell better.

"Thanks for that helpful tip there." Somehow this both made them smile. "Where do you think he is?"

For a few moments the only sound was the hissing and the steady thunk of the knife hitting the board as it sliced potatoes. One rolled, and slipped to the floor, but Dreamer was fast. He shook his head at me as I scrambled to eat it, missing it by a few seconds.

"I don't know," I looked up at him, as he looked down at the potato, examining it. "My guess is Europe. He's refined...too refined to be roughing it." He looked back at Roarer. "If you're asking whether I've heard from him, I haven't."

"No, I wasn't, but thank you for answering a question I didn't want to ask."

I went back to my spot on the floor, hoping something would fall. Nothing did, even with the clatter of plates and silverware, and the movement from cooking to the table. I followed everything closely, but no luck. They lightly discussed things that had happened away from Roarer, Dreamer trying to impress upon him that he hadn't missed very much. It was nearly dark when we had arrived, but now it was completely so when they walked outside, sitting where Roarer had for many visits.

Dreamer carried two glasses and a container of something that caught the inside light with a bright flash. It reminded me of light that woke me up when I was sleeping in the car after a walk, blazing across my vision then gone in the same second.

"Just not the entire bottle this time, hm?" Roarer asked, smiling as he took his chair. There was a table between them, where Dreamer placed the glasses and filled them barely at all. He put the container on the ground on the side furthest from Roarer.

The gently knocked the glasses together, and looked out into the darkness. They didn't speak, but I heard noises beyond the light of Roarer's home. Nothing unusual, so I settled down near Dreamer, watching the two of them. There was no tension, but I didn't think they would ever speak again. The rumbling growl eventually came forth, and both Dreamer and I looked up and over.

"She's gone, Will." Those three words triggered something, and Roarer placed his glass on the ground as he pitched forward, knees barely catching his elbows. Dreamer looked unsure, and reached his hand out but didn't touch. I smelled something from Roarer that I only previously had known from Dreamer, when he stared at nothing and sighed 'Hannibal'. There was only one cure that I knew for this, only one way to make it stop.

Dreamer started as I stood quickly, and made my way past his knees towards Roarer's, sitting in front of him. His head bowed and curled in, he didn't see me stare up at him, so I quashed my fear and pushed my nose into his hands that were clasped beneath. I heard him breathe quickly, surprised, but I kept at it, wriggling til my head was between his hands. The sharp noises had stopped, the smell began to disperse, but still lingered slightly.

"Hey there, Winston." His voice cracked, but still warm, he chuckled as he began to run his hand over my head back to my ears. "Looks like I didn't damage you after all." I sat there until he was steadily breathing, sort of like when Dreamer had a dream, and I had to wait until he calmed. I don't know how much time passed, but I stayed there, sensing the strength coming back.

After a while, both sighed and stood, Roarer collecting the glasses, but not the container. I returned to Dreamer's side as we walked down the steps to the car. He turned without me expecting him to, so I sat, looking back at both.

The illumination from inside threw Roarer in particularly imposing clarity - he was tired, but he did not hold himself as angry or afraid. Dreamer looked up, a wary unsurety settling over him. I looked at him, and then towards the home. It was too quiet.

"I'm going to Europe." Dreamer glanced down at the ground, then up again. He was testing a boundary - I had done this many times before.

"I know, Will. I figured." He turned from us towards the door, but stopped as Dreamer called out to him.

"Jack? Will you watch Winston?" I looked up at my name being mentioned. Roarer looked down at me and smiled.

"I'd be happy to. And Will? Be careful - we both survived once. Not sure we could again." Dreamer nodded at that and rubbed my head. I followed him to the car, jumping in as he settled in next to me. We looked at Roarer close the door behind him, and started our way home.

It was a different kind of light to watch the trees by, but the scents that swept past me were good. No dreams, no anger, and no fear. At least not yet.


End file.
